learning from those wiser than the world

Goodbye Greece: A Repost

Originally posted here, entitled “Why We Left Home and Came to the Land God Showed Us: Greece”. I’m re-posting it now that we’re leaving Greece and en route to Canada. I still reflect on our experiences with a grateful heart, but it’s time to move on.

The divine Psalmist petitions, “Hearken O daughter, and see, incline thine ear; and forget thine own people and thy father’s house,” and in moving to Greece we did just that. We left all those comforts behind, moved half-way around the world, and subjected ourselves to whatever this foreign country would throw at us. From the moment we encountered Orthodoxy all we wanted was to learn the Orthodox faith. And so, we came to Greece to study and learn as much as possible about living as Orthodox Christians.

It wasn’t the first time we had moved away; in fact we moved to Greece from South Korea. Having already made one move half-way around the world, we thought we might as well do it again, this time in the other direction, and in a country which has Orthodox churches on every corner. We had returned home to Canada for only a short one-month visit between the continents. But the adventure of living in Korea wasn’t for nearly as noble reasons as those for coming to Greece; but that’s another story.

Since my husband wanted to continue his education, and we had heard of a Greek Language program offered in Thessaloniki that enables its students to enter the University after successful completion of exams, we decided to move here for studies.

Now I’ll be honest, I had a romantic view of Greece, despite the advice of others. One older Greek nun I met before I left Canada even advised: “Don’t look anywhere in Greece! Don’t listen to anyone! Things aren’t the way they used to be.” But I couldn’t help myself. Every crazy person I encountered on the street I took to be a fool-for-Christ. I believed every housewife ceaselessly said the Jesus Prayer. I considered every priest to have attained illumination, and I expected to just soak it all in while studying Modern Greek – a language I only knew the alphabet of before moving here. I thought this way, that is, until the first time I attempted to receive Holy Communion alongside a large crowd of Greek women.

When the priest came out of the altar with the chalice all the women decided to huddle in front of the church, blocking the path to Holy Communion. I realized afterward they were waiting for antidoron (blessed bread); but I didn’t know that while patiently awaiting my turn to receive. And I never thought – nor knew the language – to ask whether or not they planned to receive. Once the priest went back into the altar, however, I realized I had missed my chance to commune! At that moment all of my unfounded, high opinions of the average Greek just flew out the blue and red stain-glassed windows. I should never have been so quick to judge others – yes, even thinking highly of a person is judging them; it’s forming a judgment on their character without cause. Needless to say, although I was very upset, my feet touched down on real Greek soil for the first time, and I began taking with sobriety what Greece had to offer.

Countless blessings have come as a result of sticking it out in Greece, facing the unknown, and putting ourselves in humiliating situations (read: learning a second language when I spent twelve years attempting to learn French only to remember Je m’appelle – and that only to say, not spell).

We have made countless pilgrimages to holy monasteries, crawled into holy caves, walked through forests to reach holy springs, and each time we have marveled that we walked on holy ground. We live in Thessaloniki – the city St. Paul wrote to, visited, wept over. The city St. Demetrios has fought for, even after his martyric death. The city that St. Gregory Palamas, as Archbishop, guided, instructed, reprimanded, and loved.

We have been to places where saints, both old and new, living and reposed, have dwelt. We have kissed fragrant relics, and taken the blessing of more than one living saint. We have attended services in churches older than anything one can find in North America, and listened to contemporary homilies that made us think we were hearing St. John Chrysostom preach about the hippodrome. We strive to take in all the blessings Greece offers, knowing we will long for these days when we return home. But, we also strive to take them in because we know that being able to share all the blessings we receive is an added bonus.

Having said all that, actually settling down in Greece was about as difficult as writing about the good aspects of Greece is easy. Our years spent here have been anything but trouble-free, but they have also been filled with the benefits that come from suffering.

We moved away from home, forgot our people, our language, our “father’s house,” all because we wanted to inherit the mindset of Orthodoxy. I don’t know if we have attained it. But we sure hope our continually renewed attempt will one day bear fruit, and on returning home we will be able to offer to our people the beauty we have received from this Orthodox country, Greece.

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3 Responses

Perhaps it is only after leaving a country one has longed for years to experience–in my case, Holy Russia–and finds oneself parted from it that the true longing for it can finally begin. A longing that encompasses all the hard and disappointing things too: it all goes together. A country is like a person: they come with rough edges included! Like St. Paul, you’ve lived through some of the difficulties of Greece, but you’ve also been engulfed in the tremendous sanctity. Thanks for sharing some of it here.